


You've Got Your Own Room Now

by thegeminisage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s08e14 Trial and Error, Fluff, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Season/Series 08, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegeminisage/pseuds/thegeminisage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean turns on his side, staring at the wall, but it feels all wrong. He can't get comfy like this, with only one bed in the room. He's used to facing Sam.</p><p>(In which Dean has post-episode insomnia because he doesn't like sleeping by himself.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Got Your Own Room Now

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing/Gen issue kinda depends on whether or not you're wearing your shipping goggles. Much like the show, no explicit Wincest is mentioned, it just gets a little intense sometimes.
> 
> This is unedited by anyone but myself, so apologies if it's rough! Mild spoilers for tonight's episode, _Trial and Error_.

Dean's done a lot of growing lately. He talked to Cas about feelings, almost had a gay thing, and now he's got his own room. And whether he's right and he's a grunt or Sam's right and he's a genius, he's still not dumb enough that he can't admit to himself when he's scared.

(Admitting it to Sam's another issue entirely. That only happened once, before Hell, and Dean's got no interest in a repeat performance.)

Doesn't make it any easier to sleep. The room smells clean, his walls are covered in weapons, his mom's picture is right next to the bed, and his memory foam still remembers him, but an hour's ticked by and dreamland isn't any closer.

Dean rolls onto his stomach and reaches for the flask in the bedside table drawer. How many times now has he tried to bow out? To let it be over? He could count them like sheep: after Sam left for Stanford, when he had the heart attack, after the car accident with Dad, when he made his crossroads deal, the time he tried to say yes to Michael, when he found the crater that used to be Bobby's house, and then again with the three trials crap. And those are just the big sheep. Dean takes a swig of whiskey, and the burn is good, but it'll take more than that to get him buzzed. He doesn't feel like dealing with the hangover, so he just drains the rest of the flask and puts it back in the drawer. Has to keep his room clean, after all.

Building things is hard. Okay, fine, it's _scary_. Everything Dean tries to build turns to ash under his fingers. He's had one home burned down, another attacked by djinn, a third blown up by leviathans, and he wouldn't be surprised if the batcave here was next on God's shit list. He stayed with Lisa and Ben and nearly got them killed. He dragged Cas down from Heaven. He talked to Sam once, for the first time in years, and Jessica wound up burning on the ceiling. Bad luck's been dogging his heels since before he was born.

But not Sam, Dean thinks. Sam went to college. Sam survived without him. Every time Dean got torn off of the face of this earth Sam found a woman and tried to settle down. (Okay, so there was that time with the demonic woman who didn't want to settle down so much as feed Sam her blood, but nobody's perfect. Dean punches his pillow.) The point is, Sam could get out. He's tried to get out just as much as Dean has. They just go about it in different ways.

And Dean _wants_ them out. He _wants_ to die with a gun in his hand and have Sam to live until he's a hundred and two.

Sam will go without Dean, he has before. But he won't let Dean go without him.

He'll look for Dad with him. He won't let Dean die in peace: he'll find specialists and reapers and ouija boards. He'll gank demons and drink their blood if he has to, he'll follow Dean right into the hornet's nest full of angels because _you're still my big brother_ , and he'll come and find Dean next to Purgatory's gate with his wall broken and everything. And now? _I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't, I am. But it's there._

Sam just doesn't get it. He doesn't understand that Dean can't go _everywhere_ with him. The guy can use the bathroom on his own, so he's perfectly capable of exploring tunnel-ends by himself too, and what happened to the Sam who would have craved that permission from Dad or Dean? Maybe eventually they'll both wind up in their shared soulmate-slice-of-heaven, but Dean, he doesn't pass go like Sam does. He can't. He can't even imagine that he can, because he doesn't like to set his hopes too high. It makes it worse when they crash and burn. Dean turns on his side, staring at the wall, but it feels all wrong. He can't get comfy like this, with only one bed in the room. He's used to facing Sam.

That's what's missing, he realizes. Sam's deep-sleep breathing and the soft glow of his laptop, the click of keyboard when he works on research while he should be sneaking porn. Dean gets up and grabs his pillow and bedspread, too tired for pride. He doesn't have to get dressed; he still can't sleep in anything less than his jeans.

Sam's in one of the dim, lamplit side rooms, sitting in an armchair so big and fluffy even he has enough room to sprawl out. He's got a book over his nose and he's snoring lightly against it. Dean can't help but smirk, because the idea of Sam nearly smothering himself in some ancient tome is pretty hilarious. Dean tugs it down anyway—just a little, not enough to wake him up—and drapes the bedspread over him without thinking about it because it's a little chilly in here, and Sam's gonna be grouchy as hell if he has to do those trials with a cold.

But fair's fair. Sammy gets the blanket, Dean can have the pillow. It wasn't quite so fair when they were kids: if Sam's head wasn't pillowed on his lap in the backseat of the Impala, thumb in his mouth and drool getting on Dean's pants, he would get the pillow too.

Dean twists the other armchair around so it faces Sam and plops down in it, curling up a little to keep warm. No matter what happens, no matter how far they pull themselves apart, they always manage to bounce back to each other.

_If you come with me, I can take you to it._

Building things is scary. Allowing himself to _want_ to build them, that's even worse.

_I believe in you, Dean. So please—please believe in me too._

Sam's a stubborn little shit.

"Have it your way, Sammy," he murmurs, and closes his eyes, the afterimage of Sam sleeping peacefully staying on the backs of his eyelids, finally guiding him into sleep.

He won't get his hopes up. But he'll come along for the ride. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like what you see and stuff I am also on [tumblr](thegeminisage.tumblr.com)! Feel free to say hi.


End file.
